A Good Kind of Insanity
by Surreptitious Chi X
Summary: Post Legacy, pre-Starless Night. When Artemis hits rock bottom, Jarlaxle is there to pick him up and dust him off. Now a two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is a one-shot taking place after _The Legacy_, in which Drizzt soundly defeats Artemis and leaves Artemis to die.

**A Good Kind of Insanity**

* * *

><p>Hmm. Who knew. Smashing your face into the side of a mountain hurt. A new experience for Artemis Entreri, but then, this was because he was not usually so clumsy. Of course, a malfunctioning bat cape had a lot to do with that.<p>

And why did his cape malfunction? Because a crazy drow ranger sliced it to pieces.

Why was he falling at this exact moment? The crazy drow ranger threw him off a cliff after unhelpfully dislodging Artemis' dagger from his foot. It wasn't like Artemis was being rude or anything. It was either puncture the drow's foot with a dagger or fall to his death. He kind of preferred to live.

Artemis wondered why this desire was such a mystery to everyone he met. _Is it so wrong to want to live? What have I ever done to deserve being snuffed out? Yet it seems that everyone, at one time or another, has sought to extinguish me from this plane of existence._

It finally occurred to him that if that were true, if everyone in the world truly desired him dead, there was no point in living anyway. No matter how long he lived, he'd still be alone.

_Ah. So I guess I'm really dead then. No desire. No chance. I'm dead. If I can't fight for myself anymore, if I don't care anymore, there's nothing left for me. _

_ I don't care anymore. It's not worth it._

Then he blacked out.

* * *

><p>Artemis awoke to someone checking his pulse. A strong, thin-fingered hand gripped his wrist. By the placement of the person's fingers, he knew immediately that they were checking his heartbeat.<p>

_Don't be disappointed. I'll be dead soon enough. _

Artemis fully intended to lapse back into unconsciousness.

"Up, up," a voice said cheerfully. "You're not going to die any time soon. You may as well get up and face the day, Artemis Entreri." A male elf, speaking Common perfectly. Odd.

Artemis frowned. _Familiar_. His eyes snapped open. The mercenary leader of Bregan D'aerthe stood over him.

Jarlaxle hauled him to his feet.

Artemis regained his balance perfectly.

Jarlaxle let go of his wrist.

Artemis didn't understand. He was looking at Jarlaxle with two good eyes. He was in no pain whatsoever. He merely felt a little stiff. _This is not the body of the man who fell off the cliff. _Though 'fall' was a graceful word for what he had actually done.

He looked around. _A cave. A light – a fire. Why am I here?_ He could only assume it was some nearby passage to the Underdark connecting to the territory of Mithral Hall. He'd learned on this venture that there were many such passages into the darkness.

"Am I dreaming?" Artemis demanded, narrowing his eyes at Jarlaxle. _Because this isn't any dream I want to have. _He had looked forward to finally being dead.

Then it hit him: _Of course I'm alive. I wanted to be dead._ Oh, the gods and their eternal games. When he wanted to live, he was threatened with death, when he wanted death, he was threatened with life. An unending game of keep away.

Artemis let out a laugh and immediately returned to being serious. "Of course I'm not dead. I'm alive."

Jarlaxle looked confused. "And…?"

"What do you want?" Artemis looked at him flatly.

"Well, I did save you, you know," Jarlaxle said. "A little gratitude would be nice."

Artemis snorted. "You did me no favor. You merely did as the gods commanded: prolonged my torture."

Jarlaxle looked surprised, and then…concerned. He looked deep into Artemis' eyes. "So life is torture, eh?" he murmured. "Why is this, Artemis Entreri?"

Artemis was taken aback. Jarlaxle had gone from being an opportunistic mercenary to being a soul-searcher in the blink of an eye. He didn't know if he liked this new Jarlaxle. The drow's scrutiny was uncomfortable. And in the flickering light of the camp fire, Jarlaxle's face was sinister.

The assassin crossed his arms. "None of your damn business."

Jarlaxle's eyebrows flew up. He let out a chuckle. "Indeed? Is that so?" He walked in a complete circle around Entreri, studying the man. "What would you say if I were to tell you I would make it my business?" He cast long shadows behind him, shadows that curled up the cave wall.

"I'd tell you to get lost," Artemis said. He smiled pleasantly. "Since that hypothetical is dispensed with, I'm leaving." He turned away.

"Where will you go?" Jarlaxle asked.

Artemis paused and snorted. "You needn't sound so concerned, drow. I have a place to be."

"Where?" Jarlaxle insisted.

"Calimport."

"Calimport? Have you no better place to go than Calimport?" Jarlaxle asked.

Artemis looked over his shoulder. "What's wrong with Calimport?"

Jarlaxle shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It didn't make you happy last time."

Artemis turned all the way around. "What would you know?"

Jarlaxle shrugged again. "I just don't see why you would have given up on your comfortable Calimport life to fight Drizzt in the dirt and muck if you hadn't been substantially unhappy. You had everything a Calimport assassin should want: money, fame, and a guild to run. Instead, you left it all behind for one scrawny drow."

Artemis narrowed his eyes. "Get to the point."

Jarlaxle ticked off the items on his fingers. "Fame, money, and guild leadership mean nothing to you." He spread his hands. "It's obvious."

"You're wrong," Artemis said automatically. He felt a sudden ache of emptiness in his chest. _He's right._ _I could eat of that food and be hungry forever. An entire banquet of leadership, fame, and wealth couldn't satisfy me. _He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What are you saying, Jarlaxle?" _And why are you saying it? _The drow's forwardness was creeping him out. Not that he would admit to that. He preferred to be the one making other people uncomfortable.

"Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you," Jarlaxle said.

Artemis took a step back. He thought about drawing his sword. "Why?" _What do you want from me?_ _What does Jarlaxle think he can buy with my heart's desire?_

Jarlaxle looked surprised. "Why does one do anything?"

"I don't know," Artemis said sourly. "Why?" Something in Jarlaxle's demeanor relaxed him, but he didn't know what. He just knew Jarlaxle's body language didn't say 'threat'.

Jarlaxle laughed. "Well, if you don't know why you do anything, we have much work to do."

Artemis felt his face grow hot. "That's not what I meant! Damned drow!"

Jarlaxle chuckled at that, grinning in the face of the assassin's ire. He wagged an index finger. "But it's true, isn't it? You don't understand other people, but you don't understand yourself, either. Why does Artemis Entreri do things? Does he think about it? Or is he merely…sleepwalking, we'll say."

"We won't," Artemis said flatly.

"Then what do you call it?" Jarlaxle asked softly. "Living?"

Artemis narrowed his eyes in dislike. "Don't question me."

"If I don't, who is?" Jarlaxle asked, apparently serious.

Artemis turned away, angry and frustrated. "No one, I suppose. That's the way I prefer it, at least. Mouthy mercenaries don't make the cut. Definitely now drow ones. And definitely not drow ones wearing high cut vests and purple hats. Go elsewhere, Jarlaxle. I don't need you and don't want you."

"Hmm." Jarlaxle didn't move, didn't seem impressed by Artemis' assessment.

Artemis started to walk away. There was a passage into a network of caves, and dark or not, he was going. He wasn't afraid of the dark.

"What are you going to do when you get there?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Where?" Artemis asked, wondering why he bothered.

"Calimport." Jarlaxle added innocently, "Isn't that where you want to go?"

Artemis ground to a halt and gritted his teeth. Jarlaxle's implication that he himself had forgotten his destination needled him. The assassin spoke into his mood. "Kill something."

"Ah." The pause was not long. "Why?"

"Because it's better than not killing something." _If you don't go soon, I'm going to kill you. How would you like that, drow? And in these caves, no one will ever find you. I'll make sure of that. I don't care if the best drow tracker from your Bregan D'aerthe searches for you. _Though he supposed that was not the drow way. If the band didn't hear from Jarlaxle, they'd just assume the captain was dead.

"Why?" Jarlaxle asked. "Is there some meaning to killing something that I should be aware of? Isn't it merely a job? A cessation of life?"

"Stop analyzing me," Artemis groaned. He started walking again. _The more distance I get between you and me, the better. I can see that clearly, at least._ He squinted into the caverns ahead.

In spite of his order, Jarlaxle spoke again. "You kill because what you face if you don't is a meaningless void."

Once more, Artemis felt himself grind to a halt. He slowly turned around to face the mercenary, feeling like every drop of blood had drained from his body.

Artemis could see that void in his mind's eye. A gray, sucking storm that leeched meaning and color from the world. The endless, hungry mouth that threatened to consume his life. "No," he whispered.

Jarlaxle smiled and wagged a finger at him, startling him. "But this is not true, you know."

Artemis stared at the drow. _What do you mean it's not true? I know it is._ "No?" he asked dryly. "Why do I kill, then?"

"Because you think it is true." Jarlaxle spread his hands. "To a person motivated by such fear, nothing is risked. No chance is taken that it is not true, because one mistake leads to destruction. You are afraid of oblivion, no? This is why you fight. This is why you must be perfect, yes?" Jarlaxle beamed at him.

Artemis couldn't decide if Jarlaxle were sadistic or merely a lunatic. _Why are you smiling at me? Why, when you understand my thought process so well, do you merely smile instead of running away screaming? _"And…this does not frighten you?"

Jarlaxle chuckled. "Lord, no. Most of the people I know think that way. You are no exception, Entreri. Do not think it intimidates me."

"Is that a threat?" Artemis asked. He narrowed his eyes. Jarlaxle had him completely off balance.

"It is a promise," Jarlaxle said.

"Of what?"

"Friendship."

Artemis felt his facial muscles twitch.

Jarlaxle looked at him curiously.

Artemis wondered if he were dreaming. If, in fact, this were some twisted nightmare somehow inflicted upon him by the ruby pendant. A nightmare in which someone offered him friendship. He swallowed. He must resist the temptation at all costs. "I…don't believe in that."

Jarlaxle laughed and slapped his knee, bending over double. "You don't believe in friendship?"

"No." Artemis scowled.

"What kind of person are you?" Jarlaxle asked. His visible eye twinkled. He was grinning in amusement.

"A loner." Artemis resented the mockery.

"There is no such thing," Jarlaxle declared, straightening.

Artemis stood up. "There is, and I am one."

"You're not, because there isn't," Jarlaxle retorted. The drow pointed at him. "Who made the shirt you wear?" Jarlaxle snorted. "Oh, you did, I suppose."

Artemis glanced down at his shirt, taken aback. "No."

"You're wearing someone else's handiwork?" Jarlaxle raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were a loner. Imagine that, Artemis Entreri relying on someone else's work to live. But surely this is a mistake. Who made your cloak? Your belt? Your jerkin? Your boots?"

"I…"

Jarlaxle narrowed his eyes, suddenly moving in for the kill. "Your sword?"

Artemis felt as though someone punched him in the stomach.

Jarlaxle gestured imperiously. "Surely to someone so invested in killing and loneliness, fashioning his own sword is essential?"

Artemis instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword, suddenly pierced with the irrational fear that it was going to be taken away from him.

"You didn't, did you?" Jarlaxle demanded.

Artemis wordlessly shook his head.

"You aren't alone, Artemis Entreri. Everyone in the world ensures that you live. Other people even allowed you to defend yourself – to kill. Where is the loneliness in that?"

Artemis speechlessly sat down. The ground didn't feel solid – it didn't feel real. The stone was cold under his hand and not cold at the same time.

"You are no more alone than I am," Jarlaxle said.

"What, then?" Artemis said. His voice sprang from somewhere deep inside. "Why do I feel so…" _…tortured. Helpless. Alone. If I am never alone, then why do I feel alone?_

"Unneeded?" Jarlaxle suggested gently. "Unwanted? Unimportant? Unintended and unusable?"

Every word Jarlaxle used piled on top of Artemis' head, heavier and heavier. Artemis bowed his head under the weight of those words and stared at the ground. _I am empty._

"I need you," Jarlaxle said softly.

Artemis slowly raised his head and looked at Jarlaxle in disbelief. "What did you say to me?"

"I want you," Jarlaxle said. "Come with me."

Artemis was horrified at the loaded reaction he had to those words. His first thought was of being grabbed and shoved in a small, dark place. _He's lying._ The other reaction was that of a starved man being offered food. _I'll eat it even if I choke._

He jumped to his feet, drawing his sword. "Stop it! Stop messing with me!"

Jarlaxle tilted his head and rested his hands on his hips. The gesture was at once casual and unconsciously seductive. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Artemis stared the drow down, ready for an attack. "Guess the game's up."

"Do you believe that you will also be important to me?" Jarlaxle asked. "That I will call you my friend? That we will do things together that please us both? That we may, in fact, defy powers greater than ourselves, succeed beyond both of our dreams, form a bond as partners, and conquer the world?"

Artemis sighed, no longer afraid. _Lunatic,_ he decided. "You're insane." He shook his head. "I would never want to do those things with you, even if I could." He sheathed his sword.

"Why?" Jarlaxle asked.

Artemis explained as he would to the smallest child. A little kindness, but mostly pity. "Because having a partner is a weakness. Having a partner slows me down."

Jarlaxle slowly smiled.

Artemis did not like that smile. "What?"

"You have just thrown the gauntlet," Jarlaxle said. "A challenge I cannot help but accept. I will show you, Artemis Entreri, the meaning of friendship."

"I don't want your friendship," Artemis retorted.

Jarlaxle snorted, tried to hold it in, and then burst out laughing. "Then why are you talking to me? Why have you been talking to me this entire time, when you say you want to go?"

Artemis was suddenly humiliated, frustrated, and somehow unspeakably annoyed. "Because you were talking to me!"

"But you didn't have to answer." Jarlaxle grinned at him so widely it bordered on a leer.

"Look, you damned drow!" Artemis took a step forward, fully intending to run Jarlaxle through. "I don't have time for your games!"

Jarlaxle spread his hands, his visible eye widening. "Then leave."

Artemis was so stymied, so utterly bewildered by that answer to his confrontation that his arm wouldn't move. He stared at Jarlaxle in shock.

As a matter of fact, he couldn't. Walking away from the only fire on a dark night in the middle of the Underdark wilderness, fighting his way into a foreign jungle of monsters – even though he knew full well he could get home if he wanted to –filled him with a realization. He didn't want to. He didn't want to step back into the darkness.

Artemis sank to his knees and sat down.

"There, you see?" Jarlaxle looked at him kindly. "You're not such a loner after all."

"Shut up," Artemis muttered. He was stunned at himself. Stunned and disquieted. _I don't want to be alone. I am not seeking loneliness. It has found me, and Jarlaxle relieves this loneliness from my shoulders. _

"You're not going to talk if I don't?" Jarlaxle asked.

"No."

Jarlaxle watched him, smiling.

Minutes passed. Artemis started to stare at Jarlaxle, then averted his vision. _What am I doing? Don't encourage him. He's the drow. A loquacious drow who needs to mind his own business. _

He glanced back.

Jarlaxle smiled at him calmly.

"Is this what drow do on cold nights?" Artemis found himself saying. "Stare at each other?"

Jarlaxle shrugged.

Artemis blinked, and then narrowed his eyes. "I know your game."

Jarlaxle shrugged again.

"Damn it, say something!" Artemis gripped the hilt of his sword.

Jarlaxle burst out laughing so merrily that Artemis was disarmed.

_It is all a game to him. He is nothing but a child_. Artemis lowered his hand, letting it fall off his sword hilt and rest in his lap. _He taunts me for the fun of it, not out of maliciousness._ The assassin didn't know what he should do with that information.

Jarlaxle's visible eye twinkled. "I will break the silence. Do not worry, friend Entreri." He sat down and made himself comfortable on the floor of the cave.

"I'm not your friend," Artemis muttered. "Presumptuous drow."

"Presumptuous?" Jarlaxle pouted. "But you stay with me on a cold night and share my fire. You talk with me and play games. What is a friend?"

Artemis stared at the mercenary.

Jarlaxle looked as though he'd just had a revelation. He looked at Artemis curiously. "What is a friend to you, if I may ask?"

Artemis blinked. He didn't have the slightest idea.

"Whatever it is, I'll be that," Jarlaxle asserted.

"N-Never had one," Artemis stuttered. He found himself examining the side of his boot again.

"Well, what would you like one to be?"

Artemis almost said 'silent'. He curbed the impulse immediately, seeing it could only lead to another rehashing of the previous game. He had been neatly outsmarted. He was forced to honestly consider the question – something that turned his stomach. He never honestly considered questions. Especially not personal ones.

"Haven't you ever wondered what a friend is like?" Jarlaxle asked, tilting his head.

"Often," Artemis muttered. Then it was too late to take it back. He sighed with despair. If this were some kind of test of his mental strength, he had just failed. _Is this going to devolve into torture now?_

"What did you believe?" Jarlaxle asked.

Artemis' head jerked up. He examined Jarlaxle's expression. _The mockery is gone. _He didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

Jarlaxle waited, looking patient.

Artemis had to dredge something up. He usually tried to erase his fantasies from his memory after he made them. Fantasies would only get an assassin killed. His mind needed to be in the moment. Only on the edge of sleep did he formulate a fantasy.

"A friend is someone…who doesn't betray you," Artemis said finally. That had been his most recent fantasy. After Dondon sold him out to the wererats.

Jarlaxle's visible eye widened for a moment, and then he smiled. "Alright. I won't."

Artemis stared at the drow mercenary. He swallowed. He couldn't possibly take that offer. It was too tempting. Too good to be true. And a trap, besides. Not even a clever one. "I don't believe you."

"That's understandable," Jarlaxle said.

Artemis narrowed his eyes. "This is too easy."

"Compared to what?" Jarlaxle asked.

Artemis didn't have an answer. He felt Jarlaxle knew this somehow. _This is another game. He is manipulating me. _And yet he couldn't see the strings. He couldn't figure out how Jarlaxle had cornered him.

"Friendship is easy, friend Entreri," Jarlaxle said. He wagged an index finger. "You simply do what you know the other person likes. You show each other respect."

"Then what do you want?" Artemis muttered.

Jarlaxle's smile widened. "Someone to talk to."

Artemis looked at Jarlaxle with wary distaste. "I have to listen?"

Jarlaxle's smile widened a little more, turning back into a grin. "That is optional."

_I can't believe I am considering being this lunatic's friend_. "What do I get?" Artemis demanded.

Jarlaxle reiterated patiently, ticking the points off on his fingers. "I will want you, need you, see you as important, give you a purpose, and I will never betray you."

Artemis stared at the drow mercenary. Finally, he said, "I don't think you can deliver."

"If I fail, you don't have to listen to me anymore." Jarlaxle's visible eye twinkled.

"I thought that was optional," Artemis retorted, but he felt his lips curving upwards.

Jarlaxle laughed.

Artemis realized, bewildered, that he actually did like Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle was the only person he had ever met who felt…pleasant to be around. In spite of making him angry. He couldn't make any sense out of the dichotomy. _How can the same person make me angry and made me feel good at the same time? _

He quickly put on a scowl. "You can call me your friend, but don't think I will return the favor until you have proven to me that you can be trusted."

Jarlaxle clapped his hands. "It's a deal!"

Again, the easy agreement put Artemis off balance. _He really does seem as though he wants to please me. Why?_

Jarlaxle held out his hand. "Let's clasp on it."

"That's a surface thing," Artemis found himself saying.

Jarlaxle tilted his head. "Are you not a surface dweller? What method of sealing a pact would you prefer?"

"A Northern thing," Artemis clarified. "I don't do it." _I don't make promises._

"What do you do?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Usually? Avoid crazy drow offering me friendship." Actually, he didn't know what he wanted from Jarlaxle. He needed to stall. He needed time to think. He needed – _Oh, what in the Nine Hells? _Artemis held up his hands. "Just do…something. Something that lets me know you're not crazy."

Jarlaxle leaned forward, reached out with one ring-bedecked hand, and squeezed Artemis' shoulder. His visible eye met Artemis' gaze piercingly. "I can be a good friend to you. I know it." He let go and retracted his hand.

Artemis Entreri stared at Jarlaxle with wide eyes. His voice felt disconnected from him. "You're crazy."

And yet he believed the drow. He believed that Jarlaxle could be of some help. That Jarlaxle just might respect him.

_Insanity is catching._

Artemis had no idea what was going on, but he knew somehow there was no going back.

Jarlaxle nodded at him and smiled. "I hear that a lot. Especially from my friends." He winked outrageously.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Good Kind of Insanity**

Chapter 2

* * *

><p>Artemis wondered if Jarlaxle had anything to eat. He considered their tenuous pact. He considered what an ally probably should do if the other were hungry. He asked the question. "Do you have food?"<p>

"Why?" Jarlaxle asked, looking curious.

"Nearly dying makes me hungry," Artemis said dryly.

Jarlaxle chuckled. "Ah. Yes, I have food." He reached into a belt pouch and pulled out a packet bound with oiled paper. He held it out to the assassin.

Artemis internally sighed and took it. _This can't be a show of weakness because Jarlaxle proved I already depend on other people for survival. At least I know he won't judge me. _He untied the string holding the package closed and found it contained crackers. They seemed crisp. Artemis looked at them for a moment, picked one up, and bit into it. The cracker crunched, which was familiar at least. What wasn't familiar was the odd, pungent taste – a cross between a potato, blue cheese, and a carrot. This was the oddest thing he had ever tasted. After a moment, he decided it wasn't that bad, and took another bite.

Jarlaxle fished out another package. "Meat, if you want something to go with it. Dried, of course."

Artemis accepted the package of jerky, too. His stomach growled. "What about you?"

Jarlaxle shrugged. "I am content to watch you eat."

Artemis was dissatisfied with that answer. "I mean, are you hungry?"

Jarlaxle's face lit up. "Consideration! You do make a good friend."

Artemis instantly wished he'd swallowed his words without saying them. "Never mind." He ate half the crackers and half the jerky.

"Does this satisfy you?" Jarlaxle asked. "Would you like some water?"

Artemis stared at the mercenary. Then he bound the packages up and shoved them across the cave floor between their bodies. "I'm not going to eat it all. It's your food." He thought about that instinctive response. His distaste at the thought of crossing that boundary. "It would be…inconsiderate." No matter how he looked at it, he had to admit that was his concern.

A smile spread across Jarlaxle's face. "You're welcome. As I said, would you like some water?"

Artemis didn't have the energy to resist kindness at the moment. "Yes."

Jarlaxle handed over his canteen. Their hands briefly touched. For some reason, this did not make Artemis immediately want to kill the drow.

He unscrewed the cap and drank from Jarlaxle's canteen, washing down the crackers and dry meat. He drank half the water, then screwed the cap back on and handed the canteen back.

Jarlaxle looked at him with an expression of affection Artemis wasn't sure one could fake. "I didn't want you to die, you know."

Artemis' stomach lurched with instant discomfort. He couldn't completely cover a wince. "What do you mean? Why?"

Jarlaxle secured the canteen to his belt. "I like you."

An illogical answer like that was undefeatable. Artemis didn't even know how to begin poking holes in that response. One could not help whom one liked. That was a fact Artemis Entreri was well aware of. After all, he'd liked Dondon Tiggerwillies. A short, snarky halfling with an annoying smirk and a bad habit of spending all his earnings on food and women. There was no reason he should have enjoyed Dondon's company, or felt any kind of kinship with the halfling. Thieves did not share some magical kinship. The fact that they'd both grown up poor and battered on the streets of Calimport had nothing to do with it. A shared past did not make a friend.

Artemis winced again. There it was: that word. Friend. And applied to a traitor, no less. He realized with a sense of horror that he had actually been betrayed. Not merely professionally. Somehow, Dondon had gotten to his heart and injured him. Perhaps it was just a bruise, but perhaps…

The assassin stared into the fire, discomfited.

Perhaps it was a fatal blow. Perhaps he would slowly bleed to death from the emotional trauma. The emotional wound. Though Artemis didn't like to admit it, his emotions could be hurt, they did sustain injuries, and they could bleed. If he didn't staunch the bleeding…

Artemis' head snapped up. He stared at Jarlaxle. _Can he see my emotional wounds? Is that why he offered me friendship?_ His face went slack. _He doesn't want me to die. He said that. Does he mean emotionally, too?_

The assassin looked away. _Why would Jarlaxle care?_

His mind whispered back: _He offered you friendship. Friends care._

"No," Artemis said aloud.

Jarlaxle blinked, appearing startled. "'No' what?"

"I'm not going to do it." _I'm not going to make myself vulnerable for you_.

"Do what?"

Artemis looked at the cave floor, watching the flickering light and shadows. "Friendship is a stupid idea." Why did that disappoint him so?

"Why?" Jarlaxle asked softly.

Artemis felt his chest tighten, felt his expression harden with anger. "It gets one hurt."

"Bad friendship does," Jarlaxle said, his voice still soft. "That's why I'm not going to offer you that kind. I offer you the good kind: good friendship. Healthy friendship. Healing friendship."

Artemis felt the last words like a blow to the stomach. "Why? Why? Why, Jarlaxle? Why heal me at all? Why not leave me to die?"

"Because I don't want to," Jarlaxle said.

Artemis reluctantly turned to face the drow mercenary.

The expression of concern was back on Jarlaxle's face.

Artemis glanced away. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Stop wasting your energy on me."

"Waste?"

"I'm not receptive."

"Hmm." Jarlaxle leaned back, altering the play of light and shadow in the cavern. "I think you are. You wouldn't be having this conversation otherwise. You would be leaving. You would go back into the dark from whence you came. But you stay by my fire."

_That evidence again. That damned evidence. He's going to cling to that, isn't he? _Artemis refused to meet Jarlaxle's gaze. "I can't leave because…" He never finished that sentence. He knew it was a dead end. Instead, he ground out, "Your concern…is not necessary."

"It isn't?" Jarlaxle questioned.

"No." Artemis made the denial as firm as he could. "It's a wasted effort."

Jarlaxle shrugged. "That's alright."

Artemis looked at him, startled.

Jarlaxle gave the assassin a slight smile. "It's my concern, after all. I can waste it if I want to. Wouldn't you agree?"

Artemis found himself completely disarmed again. His mouth fell open. "Who are you?"

Jarlaxle chuckled. "You will find that out in time. If you listen well enough." He winked.

Artemis scrambled for some belated defense. "Why would you wish to waste your concern on me? On anyone?"

Jarlaxle grinned. "Does concern have a source?"

"Yes." Artemis looked at Jarlaxle warily.

"What is that source? Does it dry up? Does concern come in limited quantities? Once 'used up', does it ever return? Does it replenish, like the charge in a magic wand? Or is it gone forever?" Jarlaxle tilted his head. "What do you think, friend Entreri?"

Artemis felt stymied. He hardly knew what to tackle first. It was like feeling an object in the dark one had never touched before. His only answers were unsatisfactory: concern came from people, he thought concern did 'dry up' and 'come in limited quantities', he had no idea what happened after the concern was 'used up', but he thought it was probably defined as abuse, and he had no intention of ever letting that happen to him.

Finally, he said, "I don't want your concern to be exhausted because I don't want the aftereffects. Alright? Is that satisfying enough an answer for you?" _Why do you have to ask me all these questions?_

"My concern cannot be used up," Jarlaxle said quietly. "If you hurt me enough times, I can simply choose not to share it with you anymore. But once I start caring, I will always feel concern for you, Artemis Entreri. Concern is not the part that goes away. Neither is caring. What goes away is the outward expression of these things."

Artemis felt a cold lump of ice in the center of his being. "So how come it went away?" he whispered. "What did I do to make it disappear?" He saw something else in his mind's eye, something other than himself and a drow mercenary having this conversation. Another place, another time. The pain was frighteningly raw, even with all of his neglect over the years. He'd buried it, and yet it was still there. _So it's my fault?_

"I don't know," Jarlaxle said kindly. "Sometimes, these things happen to other people, and they're not our fault. Someone else makes the expression of concern or love disappear, and we feel the results. One person is deprived, so we are all deprived. A blanket blackout of all expression. It's not our fault."

Artemis felt some of the iciness ebb away. "You don't even know what I'm talking about." Nor would he ever share. That he was sure of. It didn't matter how Jarlaxle prodded him with questions. He would never reveal the source of that wound.

Jarlaxle shook his head gently.

"Then why do you care?" Artemis asked.

Jarlaxle looked into his eyes. "I like you."

_Back to that again._ Artemis felt the loop close and knew their conversation had truly been circular. "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep," Jarlaxle responded.

"Why?"

Jarlaxle looked incredulous. "Did you not say you were tired? Is this not reason enough to sleep? I am unaware of many other reasons one should wish to rest."

"I don't trust you," Artemis pointed out blandly.

"Will you trust me more if you pass out?" Jarlaxle asked.

Artemis glared at him.

Jarlaxle shrugged. "I'm just asking."

"I don't think you ever 'just ask' anything," Artemis said.

Jarlaxle glanced away, smiling. "He learns."

Artemis snorted. "Quickly, too." He lay down on his side. "Don't try anything, drow."

Jarlaxle tipped his hat to the assassin. "I certainly will not. I will always succeed, or I will fail. 'Trying'? That is not particularly in my habits."

Artemis groaned. "Enough."

Jarlaxle chuckled. "Good night, Artemis Entreri. Pleasant dreams."

_Pleasant dreams?_ Artemis closed his eyes uneasily. _What are those? I have never understood that phrase. _He jerked awake several times on the edge of sleep before finally succumbing. The crackle of the fire dimmed to nothingness, and the sensations of his body numbed.

* * *

><p>When Artemis woke up, he instantly knew something: Jarlaxle had stirred up his emotions with a stick. He'd spent years attaining a kind of calm, clarity coming from all the pain in his life settling to the bottom of his mind like sediment. Now, everything was all mixed up.<p>

Foremost was a pang of need, a feeling, a desire like hunger but much less easily satisfied. Jarlaxle could feed him, but could Jarlaxle love him?

_Of course not_. Artemis sat up and rubbed his eyes. He was stiff from sleeping on stony ground. _Don't be stupid. Don't allow yourself to be fooled, led astray by some foolish drow with a flashy cape and too many words of advice for comfort. _

He glanced over, honestly expecting the drow to be gone and to have been robbed. Jarlaxle sat against the wall of the cave, looking asleep himself. Artemis patted himself down. He wasn't missing anything. All of his possessions were still on his person. He hadn't been touched.

The mystery, and Artemis' discomfort, deepened.

He'd always liked Jarlaxle. He'd liked Jarlaxle from the moment he laid eyes on the drow. From the moment that Jarlaxle opened his mouth. Jarlaxle was fun, confident, outgoing, clever. Jarlaxle was an opportunist, but not in a way that made him feel threatened. Artemis considered himself equally an opportunist.

_Friendship is an opportunity_. Artemis tried to push away the thought. It didn't work. _Friendship is an opportunity. I am an opportunist. Can't I turn this to my advantage? Don't I want a friend? Isn't this something I want? If it turns out not to be what I want, I can just leave. I've done it before. People have tried to befriend me before. When I decided I couldn't stomach them, I left. I am in no danger. There is an opportunity here. Am I truly too cowardly to take it?_

And then: _What if this turns out to be real?_

Artemis couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle the idea that he would walk away from something that he wanted more than anything because for once he wasn't man enough to take a risk. He always took the risks. He was Artemis Enteri. Life was dangerous.

_Less so with a friend._

Artemis cursed to himself. _Damn it, damn it, damn it_. He took a deep breath. _I can go now. I think I can go._

_Why am I trying to run?_

He held his head in his hands.

"Headache?" a soft voice asked.

Artemis grunted.

"You had quite a fall," Jarlaxle continued, sounding concerned.

_Gods. Concerned. There he goes again_. "I noticed," Artemis mumbled.

"You might have a concussion," Jarlaxle said. "I hadn't noticed the night before, but perhaps you still have one – a small one, for if it were any worse you wouldn't be able to jump about the way you did before. Still, friend Entreri, it might be best for you to lie down and rest."

"I'm not going to rest." _I'm not going to lie down like a corpse._

Jarlaxle sighed. "I wish for you to rest as long as necessary. And – truthfully – I have my own reasons for wishing to remain here."

Artemis slowly lowered his hands. He looked at Jarlaxle suspiciously. "Yes?"

"I have a broken leg," Jarlaxle said matter-of-factly.

Artemis stared at the drow mercenary. "You were standing."

Jarlaxle shrugged. "A drow with a broken leg can still stand. We have levitation capabilities. Limited abilities, but they can be amplified with crests." He took the corner of his cape resting over his shoulder and flipped it. There, pinned to his vest, was a golden crest. It had a mysterious coat of arms on it. "My family crest. Its special powers make it easier for one to levitate – and do a few other things one may find useful in battle."

"Why are you telling me this?" Artemis asked.

Jarlaxle leaned back against the wall of the cave. "So you understand I am vulnerable." He shrugged. "If you need to rest, by all means do so. I am not going to move around much. I needed to get you back on your feet, but to do so I certainly needed to brave a little pain. I am used to pain. There is nothing special about pain, friend Entreri. It is rather a constant of drow living."

Artemis furrowed his brow. "But do you enjoy it?" He really just wanted to keep Jarlaxle talking while he thought, his thoughts taking a completely different tack. _How could Jarlaxle have a broken leg if he had the capability to heal me from a fatal fall?_

"I don't enjoy it." Jarlaxle shook his head. He looked a little confused by the question. "I am not insane. I will never be that insane, Entreri. Pain is not lovely or enlightening. It is merely pain. Pain is something I try to avoid." He shifted and winced slightly. "I think sleeping in this cave has caused my leg to stiffen overnight. I might be experiencing swelling." Jarlaxle probed his leg with slender fingers, pouting with the discomfort.

"Why didn't you heal yourself?" Artemis asked suddenly. He couldn't keep his thought to himself after all.

Jarlaxle looked up, staring at the assassin with a strange expression. "If I healed myself, I would leave you to die."

Artemis felt a painful tightening of his chest. He momentarily could not breathe.

"It's just a broken leg," Jarlaxle said. "I've had worse. In the academy, in my childhood days, I was regularly beaten until I could not stand. A broken leg is simple in comparison. My injured state is not going to overwhelm my ability to fight. I merely wish to rest for a while. Is this wrong? Does this bother you, to remain still and stay in this cave with me for a few more hours? Menzoberranzan is nearly six hours away, and this is if we are making top speed. I don't predict that we will reach the city today. Tomorrow, at the greatest."

Artemis stood, brushing off his knees. He didn't know where his need came from, but it was paramount. "Let me see."

Jarlaxle looked up at him, taken aback. However, the drow didn't protest.

Artemis crossed the small cave and knelt in front of the mercenary. He gently worked off Jarlaxle's tall boot. It was snug. Too snug. When he got it off, he saw why. "Your ankle's swollen." He shook his head. "It's not just your leg."

Jarlaxle watched him silently.

Artemis felt Jarlaxle's ankle as gently as he could. He shook his head again. "Your ankle is broken. It's not just sprained. You're in more trouble than anticipated." He glanced up at Jarlaxle. "You're not going to walk on this. Levitation is irrelevant."

Jarlaxle's lips parted, but no sound emerged.

Artemis returned to his examination, resigned. "Your leg is swollen, of course. It couldn't not be under these conditions." He was mildly relieved that Jarlaxle's broken tibia hadn't pierced the skin. "It's a bad fracture." He could tell by the kind of swelling and the give. "I think your bone's been snapped in half. What did this?"

"A panther." Jarlaxle's voice was drained of emotion.

Artemis looked up, startled. "A panther?" He put it together. "Do'Urden? That – Guenhwyvar?"

Jarlaxle gave a single nod, watching Artemis warily.

Artemis uttered a curse. "Why attack you?"

Jarlaxle's visible eye widened. Then, a smile of amusement and pain wavered on his lips. "I was running away."

Artemis choked. He didn't think he could get any more shocked, but he was wrong. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He instantly saw himself tracking down Do'Urden and killing the drow, dissolving the stupid statue in acid, and being done with it. He was angry. Angry on someone else's behalf. The new emotion was uncomfortable and frightening. "Running away?"

Jarlaxle shrugged and let out a small laugh. "Who knew that would set him off? I would never attack such a bloodthirsty fiend, I assure you. I have fought enough drow to know when one's bloodlust takes over. Whenever Drizzt Do'Urden fights you, he is assuredly not thinking with his head or his heart. He is thinking with his blood. It's a very drow pitfall. Our blood is hotter than most."

"So he attacked a running enemy who has never attacked him," Artemis said tonelessly.

"I think that sums it up." Jarlaxle shrugged again.

"If I see him again, I'm killing him."

Jarlaxle looked startled. Then he looked away. But Artemis thought Jarlaxle looked pleased. Comforted. "I would rather you not do that. Drizzt Do'Urden is a valuable asset to the world."

"How so?"

"His fighting prowess," Jarlaxle explained. "If he were to have children, a valuable talent would be passed down through his blood. We should wait until he has children, at least."

Artemis snorted. "More Do'Urdens. A good thing?"

Jarlaxle shook his head. "Everyone is their own person. There is no guarantee Do'Urden's children would have that temperament. They might turn out to be perfect angels – perfect angels with fighting ability." He spread his hands. "It's important. Traits need to carry down. Where would the world be without people who can fight? Longevity is important to elves. Not just the personal kind. The societal kind, also. I want society to live on after I am dead. Society needs warriors."

Artemis couldn't argue with that. At the same time, he was dubious that Do'Urden would ever have children. _I don't think he should, at any rate. He'd make a terrible father. _Of course, most people made terrible fathers. Do'Urden was not special in that respect. Artemis knew he himself would make a terrible father.

"This doesn't change the fact that a six hundred pound black panther broke your ankle and snapped your leg in half," Artemis said, deadpan. "What are we going to do about it?"

A smile spread across Jarlaxle's face. "We?" He closed his eyes for a moment, resting. "You are a good friend, Entreri."

Artemis didn't know how to reconcile Jarlaxle's obvious sincerity with his own complete lack of confidence and experience. "Well? You can't stay here. That is a foolish idea. You should be trying to return to Menzoberranzan more quickly, not waiting for your injuries to get worse. That is denial, pure and simple." He stood up.

Jarlaxle opened his visible eye and looked at the assassin. "Perhaps you're right." He thought for a moment. "However, I just don't have the energy. I'm going to have to recover on my own, or I am going to die. I don't relish the idea of dying, so I hope that by sleeping, I may regain a little –"

Artemis didn't wait for Jarlaxle to finish that ridiculous speech. He grasped Jarlaxle's thin, muscular arm and pulled. He draped Jarlaxle's arm over his shoulders, supporting the drow's weight. "I'm carrying you."

"Ah." A slight smile played about Jarlaxle's lips, a sad, contemplative echo of the smile a few moments ago.

"You're not staying here. You'll die." Artemis walked out of the cave. "Which way?"

Jarlaxle pointed him in the right direction.

Artemis started walking. He had no idea where they were going, what this city of Menzoberranzan was like, but he knew they couldn't stay in that cave forever. They couldn't afford to waste any time.

Jarlaxle's weight against him, the warmth and solidity of another being, was strange to Artemis Entreri. Strange, but not unpleasant. Jarlaxle didn't protest this treatment, so Artemis decided he wouldn't worry about it. Maybe this is what friends were for. He'd certainly fantasized about a friend who would care if he were injured or unwell, and care enough to make some proactive effort to heal him. Get him help.

If he followed his instincts about what a friend should be, perhaps he wouldn't fail. For he realized that he could fail. Friendship was a two-way relationship. Jarlaxle could be his friend without his ever being Jarlaxle's – but that wasn't what he wanted. That wasn't a viable option for happiness, to him. And Artemis had decided he wanted to be happy. He woke up this morning strangely knowing that. He searched for happiness. Jarlaxle was his company on that journey. Perhaps his key. He didn't know why, but he felt that was true.

_Sentimental bullshit. _

"Thank you," Jarlaxle whispered.

Artemis reluctantly revised the severity of his opinion. _Maybe. _He pretended not to hear Jarlaxle's thanks.


End file.
